What Happened in Vegas? Oh that
by raccoonsinmybasement
Summary: Drinking, It's all fun and games until somebody gets hitched. Kurt/Puck. Based off a prompt on the LJ glee fluff meme. CHAP 4 - Warning has some naughty language, sorry. People swear when they get upset.
1. Pick your Poison

**A/N: Hey first fic longer than a drabble (albeit short chapters). This story is for a prompt on the LJ glee_fluff_meme based on the somewhat cliche prompt 'Puck/Kurt-Drinking (accidental marriage)' [I couldn't resist ;P]. Anywho I hope you like and don't hesitate to give feedback :D I thrive on reviews!! **

**Beta-d by the lovely Lezi**

**Disclaimer: I don't own glee or the characters. They all belong to the brilliant mind of Ryan Murphy.  
**

**What Happened in Vegas? Oh that...**

**Chapter 1-Pick Your Poison  
**

Drinking: the answer to (and cause of) all life's problems. Several shots into their evening, no one knew how true this statement was better than Kurt Hummel and Noah Puckerman.

The two happened to bump into each other in Las Vegas, several years after graduating from McKinley High together. It was quickly decided that they would do catching up over drinks later on that night.

The original gleeks had formed friendships in their last couple of years in McKinley, but one of the most unlikely bonds were between Kurt and Puck. It began when Puck's car broke down in the school parking lot and Kurt offered to take a look at it. Kurt's knowledge of cars came as a surprise to Puck,; he knew Burt Hummel was a mechanic and owned one of Lima's best auto shops, but he couldn't have imagined 'fancy-pants Hummel' participating in something that ran the risk of ruining his manicure. Seeing that Kurt wasn't so stereotypically gay made him respect the guy.

They became quick friends, and Kurt had developed a small crush on the jock (though he'd never admit it).

Whilst sitting at the bar that night, they easily fell back into their old rhythm of friendly conversation, which then led to them squabbling over the others' reliance when it came to holding their alcohol.

"Hummel, believe me when I say you _are_ a lightweight," Puck declared. "Come on, you're gone after, like, two drinks. Remember that one party--senior year? You were so buzzed that you announced to everyone they should join you for a skinny dip in Brittany's pool. And then you stripped right down to your boxers before you realized that no one was joining you." He snickered to himself. "It took Finn so long to get you back into your clothes."

Kurt, clearly embarrassed (albeit rather tipsy), replied, "I can handle my liquor."

"There's one way to prove it. SHOTS!" Puck said as he gestured to the bartender for two shots of tequila. The bartender put the shots down in front of the men and Kurt eyed his warily.

"Oh come on, Puck, really?"

"What, Hummel? Scared you'll end up naked on a roulette wheel somewhere?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed as he grabbed one of the shots from the bar and downed it in one determined gulp, wincing only slightly as the burning sensation of the alcohol made it's way down his throat. He slapped the glass back onto the bar and raised an eyebrow at Puck: the game was on. Puck smiled and downed his shot, gesturing for the bartender to "keep 'em coming".

As they downed shot after shot, their awareness of the night began to slowly slip further and further away.


	2. Many Men with Jackhammers

**A/N: Bring on Chapter 2!! Huzzah! Beta-d again by Lezi, she is very helpful sorting out the awkward phrasing that spews out of my mind!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. Damn.  
**

**What Happened in Vegas? Oh that...**

**Chapter 2-Many Men with Jackhammers  
**

The next morning, it was an understatement to say Kurt's head was being attacked by jackhammer-wielding construction workers. He was significantly hung over and he cursed himself for taking Puck's bait.

Puck had been right, though: he could _not _handle his liquor, and he had a raging headache to show for it. As he opened his eyes, Kurt tried to regain all sense and memory from the night before. He was only met with a recollection of swallowing too much tequila. He quickly realized he was naked, and cursed his tendency to strip while intoxicated.

Kurt rolled onto his back and stretched his arms out, only for his hand to meet the warm skin of someone else's back. More specifically, a back attached to a Mohawk-covered head.

…He was in bed. Naked. With Noah Puckerman.

Shit.

Kurt's eyes widened before he shot up in bed and took in his surroundings. The hotel room they were in was a total mess, clothes strewn across the floor… and was that a veil (albeit a tacky, tulle, headband) hanging on the--? No. It couldn't be.

Before he could get up to further investigate last night's escapade, he felt the weight of the bed shift as Puck stirred. When the other man caught Kurt's perfect 'deer-in-the-headlights' gaze, he lifted the sheets. He let out a chuckle that turned into full on laughter at Kurt's expression.

Kurt shrieked, "Puck! Why are you laughing? This is _not_, in no way, a laughing matter!" Puck only responded with another chuckle. Kurt continued to ramble, "I wake up and find myself naked, which in hindsight I should have expected--I always find myself stripping when I'm drunk…" He brought himself back on track, "But I find myself naked in bed with _you, _which can only mean one thing!"

Puck interrupted Kurt, laughter still evident in his voice. "Geez, Hummel, don't go getting your designer jeans in a twist! So we got absolutely shit-faced and slept together. What two good friends haven't? Even the guys on Friends all did it with each other at some point."

Kurt was indignant. "Puck, how could you be so blasé about this to reference a sitcom, while I'm trying to comprehend the fact that I just had sex with my best friend and god knows what else." He turned to face Puck, "And for heavens sake, put some pants on!"

Sometime during Kurt's rant, Puck had gotten up and was walking around the hotel room naked. As he hunted for his pants amongst the shambles of clothes, he muttered something about "the amount of times in college" which was met by a series of indignant huffs from Kurt.

As Puck grabbed his pants and pulled them on he noticed an uncomfortable, oddly bulky square in his pocket. Pulling it out, he found a photograph. Specifically, a picture of him and Kurt in what looked like a tacky Las Vegas chapel. In the photo, they had their arms wrapped around each other and what looked like an Elvis impersonator, Puck clad in a tuxedo t-shirt and Kurt sporting a veil. Both boys were smiling at the camera, both blissful in their drunken state. Kurt's eyes were glassy as he beamed up at Puck who was shining a toothy grin straight at the camera.

Before he could register the evidence that was held in his hand, a shriek came from behind him.

"Oh. My. God!"


	3. Cursing Cameras and Laptops

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee. If I did I'd be in there singing and dancing with them. No joke. **

**Beta: The ever helpful lezi who helped turn the awkward, wordy phrasing of my mind in to sentences.**

**Notes: Golly gosh, I apologise for the wait! I was having trouble making the story move at a believable pace, and I have to give a huge thanks to my beta (lezi) for the suggestions. Well here is the third chapter and hopefully it doesn't disappoint. ****  
**

**Cursing Cameras and Laptops.  
**

Puck stood silently, as if frozen, while a panicked Kurt tore the picture from his numbed hands. The other man's continued rants and ramblings were blocked from his mind as he considered what this all could possibly mean.

Drunken people lost their inhibitions, right? Did that mean he subconsciously wanted to be with Kurt? He knew what would happen if he got _Kurt _drunk: he would get friendly and offer to take Puck's clothes off. But the question was, did _he _want Kurt to take his clothes off?

He eyed Kurt as the man flailed about the hotel room, red in the face from yelling. The answer was yes… yes, he did.

Now, Puck would never admit it to anybody, but he did have a small crush on Hummel, once upon a time. But how could he _not?_ Kurt had this sassy, hard-to-get attitude that Puck found extremely sexy. Puck was (had always been) drawn to confidence like a moth to a flame, and if he had been sure that Kurt wouldn't have freaked out and ditched him like a last-season jacket, Puck _so_ would have tapped that back in high school.

And as loathe as he was to admit it, even to himself--it made him sound like such a _girl_--Puck would rather have Kurt's witty banter and the loyalty of their friendship instead of screwing it all up over some hormonal teenage fantasies.

As he turned to face Kurt, he cursed himself for finding the other's flustered state attractive. Kurt's hair was messy as he rushed around the hotel room looking for his pants; his cheeks were flushed as he hastily sent various items of clothing flying throughout the room. He was ranting about calling a friend who was lawyer, and getting the entire mess sorted out.

"I'll just call Harvey and see whether this instance would require an annulment or a divorce," Kurt said over his shoulder. "I mean, we weren't sober when we got married, so it can't be fully legal, right? I know we…" Kurt swallowed compulsively. "We consummated the marriage, but this is just a silly Vegas wedding. I don't think I was even sober enough to sign the marriage certificate. I think we will be able to fix this cleanly. And no one needs to know – right? It'll be like this whole disaster never even happened."

Puck broke out of his reverie, considering his options. This was a perfect time for him to finally admit his feelings to Kurt, let him know that maybe they shouldn't be too hasty and that all things happen for a reason and all that destiny shit and risk Kurt's reaction.

Or… he could just go along with Kurt and end their drunken union and continue to have their friendship. Puck decided he would rather have Kurt forever as a friend, than risk losing him over a silly high school crush. He still got to sleep with him right? The feelings would eventually (hopefully) go away.

So Puck just laughed and agreed with Kurt, bold enough to mention that this would be a great story to look back and laugh at one day.

Kurt blanched and continued to ramble about how he was going to sort this whole mess out. He had become determined to end this marriage and put this drunken mistake behind him. It didn't matter that he sort of liked waking up next to Puck, the feeling of seeing him first thing when he awoke. It didn't matter that he found him extremely attractive standing there in nothing but a pair of pants, his bare chest catching the morning light just right – no. No, snap out of it! Yes, Puck was extremely attractive but that didn't make up for his lack of boyfriend material.

Friend or no friend, Puck was (for lack of a better word) an ass. He would say the wrong things at the wrong times, convince him to participate in stupid drinking games and then laugh about the disastrous consequences later. That's the problem with attractive men, they are total douches.

So he was going to sort this out, there was no way he was going to be united for eternity to this spontaneous, frustrating moron. Kurt was not a fan of spontaneity, and it was currently doing horrors to his complexion. Kurt Hummel was in control, damn it! He was going to figure this whole situation out.

Then it hit him. "Google," Kurt muttered. "We'll find the answer on Google--it hasn't failed me yet!" Puck rolled his eyes as Kurt headed toward Puck's laptop, determination glowing in his eyes.

When Kurt flipped open the laptop his jaw dropped. There, open on the screen, was Puck's Facebook page with an uploaded picture of him and Kurt…

Kissing in their wedding attire. Puck's arm was poised upwards, he was obviously taking the picture, and a bottle of tequila was grasped firmly in Kurt's right hand. The caption underneath the photo read, 'JUST MARRIED!!'

Kurt's head spun. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit." Kurt muttered. Puck turned around hearing Kurt's woeful mantra and saw what was displayed on the screen.

It suddenly made their "let's-just-erase-the-whole-night" plan a bit more difficult… okay, a _lot _more difficult.


	4. Old people shouldn't use the Internet

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of it characters. They all belong to Ryan Murphy....yadada.**

**A/N: The fourth chapter is here. Nothing new to report, just tell me what worked, what didn't, what you might like to see more of etc. It really speeds the writing process along. *wink wink* Beta-d by the ever helpful lezi. Who has put up with me bugging her with chapters and questions. **

**Chapter 4 – Why Old People Should Not Know How To Use the Internet**

Kurt turned to face Puck, a mixture of rage, shame and embarrassment gleaming in his eyes. Puck instinctively took a step back as Kurt let out all the emotions he was holding.

"What the fucking hell, Noah?" Kurt yelled. Puck winced; Kurt was not one to take swearing lightly. "What stupid, little thought possessed you to post a fucking picture of this – this _disaster _on the Internet?"

Puck opened his mouth to protest but Kurt cut that little idea off. "Don't you even _dare _say this was my idea. You were the one who got me drunk and married me!" He pointed an accusing finger at Puck. "You baited me! You _knew _I wouldn't be able to resist taking on one of your stupid bets."

Kurt rested his hands on either side of his face, pulling the loose skin back, staring at the floor with shock-widened eyes. He murmured, "I am an idiot and a fool," He removed his hands and shifted his gaze towards Puck. "And it's all _your_ fault!"

Puck stood still, eyes downcast as Kurt continued to berate him. He was pretty sure he deserved it. Foggy, vague images from the night before came into focus as Kurt's continuous string of insults washed over him.

"_Noah, I think I'm _really _drunk," Kurt hiccupped, his eyes unfocused as he played with one of the now-empty shot glasses. _

"_Not drunk enough, not yet!" Puck laughed and continued to signal the bartender for another round._

So he was guilty for pushing Kurt past – okay, _way _past his limit. Another memory from last night entered his conscious.

"_The fresh air will do you good." A surprisingly still-steady Puck led a horrendously-green-in-the-face Kurt down the roads of Las Vegas. _

_As they casually passed a row of chapels Kurt laughed. "Think of all the stupid drunk people who get married here!"_

_Puck laughed right along with Kurt. However, he casually (if not unconsciously) guided them both to the entrance of one they had been passing. Kurt, completely oblivious at this point, was none the wiser as he followed Puck inside. _

So… the getting-married bit was totally his idea as well. Great. He really _was _to blame for this whole mess. He let Kurt continue to flay him.

"Now _the world_ knows that I let you get me drunk and that I agreed to marry you," Kurt complained. "In _Vegas _of all places!" Kurt sighed shakily. "What a cliché. I'll _never _be able to show my face in public again."

His panic increased. "I'll be the laughing stock--" At that point Kurt's phone rang, some loud, upbeat dance tune Puck didn't recognize, and it broke Kurt out of his tirade as he hesitantly answered the phone.

"Hello," Kurt chirped with obviously false enthusiasm. "Oh, Rachel!" His face went into a grimace as he said, "You saw the photo, huh." Kurt's faced flushed a bright red and Puck could faintly make out Rachel's condescending tone on the other line.

"I knew it," she announced proudly, "I just knew it would happen eventually. All the signs were there, even in high school. I should know, I have two gay dads, after all--"

Her rant was cut short when Kurt muttered a hasty "Good-_bye_ Rachel" and hung up the phone. Kurt groaned and slapped a palm to his face. "If Rachel knows, _everybody _knows. This is just fan-fucking-tastic."

Before Puck could attempt to cheer Kurt up, Kurt's phone rang again. Kurt groaned and contemplated not answering it until he saw Mercedes' number flash on the caller ID. He opened his phone and let out a dramatic sigh. "You know too, huh, Mercedes?"

Puck heard her shrill reply: "Of course I know! Rachel knows, ergo _everyone _knows."

"That's precisely what I said," Kurt replied wearily. "Before you lecture me on my poor decision-making skills, you have to know that this was just a huge misunderstanding. Puck and I met up here in Vegas and went out for some drinks. He and I got into a little drinking contest--"

Kurt pulled the phone away from his ear as Mercedes voice raised a few decibels (was that possible?). "Boy, what the _hell _did you get yourself into!? You are such a _fool _for taking on a stupid bet--that _dunderhead!_ You _knew _this couldn't have panned out well!"

She sighed. "You know this isn't going to be easy to fix, right? You're now legally tied to this moron for who knows _how _long. This is your first marriage, Kurt! It's your first marriage, and it's gonna end in _divorce_." She snorted to herself. "Mark my words it _will _end in divorce. I'm sorry, but Puck is _not _marriage material."

Kurt nodded in agreement, despite the fact that Mercedes couldn't see it. "Puck's _certainly _not marriage material. He sort of pushed me into this whole mess, after all. This sucks." He frowned. "My _first marriage_--a first marriage, with Puck of all people! This is a mess..."

Puck couldn't help but feel a little offended that both Mercedes _and _Kurt had so little faith in him and his marital abilities. Who's to say he wouldn't be a kickass husband? Puck would be kickass at _whatever _he did, so this doubtful Kurt further fuelled his need to prove him--him, Mercedes and anyone else who thought he couldn't handle married life, wrong. He was going to prove to them that he could be a _fantastic _husband, even if it was the last thing he did.

When Puck broke out of his little epiphany, Kurt had finished his conversation with Mercedes and was currently calling up his lawyer-friend (Harvey?). "Send some divorce papers… _stat… _end this quickie marriage with _some _sense of order…" Kurt muttered to himself as he put the phone to his ear.

They were the recipients of many calls and messages that day: Puck received a painfully awkward "Congratulations, man" from Finn, which involved the other boy trying his best to remain politically correct and express his happiness for this new development in his friend's life. Puck just groaned and thanked Finn, not enjoying this part of the ordeal one bit.

When Puck's phone rang for what had to be the fiftieth time, he groaned and answered it with a robotic, hollow "Hello." What he _didn't _expect was the all-too-familiar voice on the other line.

"Noah Puckerman, when were you going to tell me you had a _boyfriend_ and that you were getting _married?_"

Puck's face went several shades paler as he stuttered out, "Mom?"

He was going to _kill _his little sister for showing their mother how to use the Internet.


	5. Making Plans with Puckerman

**Disclaimer: Do not own Glee or any of it's characters. They belong to someone else. **

**Beta-d by the wonderful Lezi :) Thanks!  
**

**A/N: Sorry dudes and dudettes for the looooong wait. I had an epic case of writers block with this fic and I had to let it sit on the backburner for a while. Fortunately, I now have my direction back and I will attempt to update fortnightly! Huzzah! Are we excited? So again I hope you guys enjoy this chapter – even though it is slightly fliller-ish. All feedback is appreciated and encouraged so let me know what you think, what you want to happen etc. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Five: Making Plans with Puckerman's**

"Mom?" Noah asked again, hoping his mind was playing tricks on him. Kurt's head shot up, his eyes like a deer's caught in headlights, looking at Noah from across the room. It was bad enough that their friends knew, but their _families _knowing? Kurt was about to die from embarrassment.

"Noah, honey," Miriam Puckerman started, "Why didn't you tell me that you were seeing someone?"

Puck opened his mouth to reply, but as if his mother was reading his mind, she continued, "I know he's a boy, honey, and that doesn't matter--I can get grandchildren out of your sister--I'm more disappointed that I couldn't be there to see my only son get married!"

"Ma, it was kind of - "

"Don't you 'Ma' _me _in that tone, Noah Isaac Puckerman!" She chastised. "You didn't even have the decency to hold a traditional Jewish wedding, either! You getting married by a man dressed as Elvis--not even the _handsome _Elvis, mind you--is dismissing everything our ancestors died for. Has everything I've ever said to you--all those Schindler's List showings--taught you nothing?"

"Ma, I'm sorry for the disgrace I've imposed on you," Puck, exasperated, began. He paused as his mother _harrumphed _in indignation. "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you – make sure I stay the favourite?"

"Who say's _you're _the favourite?" his younger sister's voice echoed through the phone.

"Sara Puckerman!" his mother screeched. "You get off the extension this second. I am _trying _to have an adult conversation with your brother, which you have proven you are not eligible to be apart of, as eavesdropping is _not _an adult thing to do!"

"Then what do you call conveniently pruning your rose bush by the back fence whenever Mrs. Higgins is arguing with her husband? I'd call that eavesdropping, mother," Sara bit back.

Puck bit back a laugh at his sister's willingness to rile up their mother; he was thankful she was taking the heat off of him (not for long, though). When he heard his sister hang up the extension, followed by his mother yelling, "You're grounded!" he brought up his previous offer.

"Ma, I'll say it again, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"Well, there is _one _thing…" she said slowly. The venturing tone of her voice made Puck uneasy, and he wasn't so sure he wanted to know what that 'one thing' was.

"What?"

"You could bring that lovely boy – what's his name?"

"Kurt."

"Yes, Kurt, over for dinner so I can get a chance to meet my new son-in-law."

"You want me to bring Kurt over for dinner?"

At the mention of his name Kurt, listened into the conversation. When he heard what Puck's mother had asked, he blanched and shook his vehemently from side to side. Puck shot him a "what can I do?" look and shrugged his shoulders, ignoring Kurt's silent protests.

"Sure, Ma," Puck said. "What time do you want us over?"

Kurt threw his hands up in exasperation at Puck's answer and flopped backwards onto the nearest bed. He wished it would just swallow him whole, to take him away from all of this embarrassment. What the hell was Puck thinking, telling his mother that they would be coming over for dinner as husband and husband? He did _not _want his dad finding out about this, and Miriam Puckerman was one of the biggest gossipmongers he knew. His dad would know in no time and Kurt would be forced to explain his stupid mistake. Great.

Noah Puckerman was _dead _the moment he hung up that phone.

"Good-bye, Ma–-I love you too, Ma. Yes, I'll make sure to wash… Good-bye, Ma." Puck closed his phone and turned to a now-steaming Kurt.

"Why in the _hell _did you just tell your mother that we'd have dinner with her?" Kurt snapped. "Didn't we--" he gestured between them, "--just agree that we would keep this whole thing as much of a secret as possible? That we were going to sign the divorce papers and pretend that this whole thing _never happened!?"_

With each question Kurt's voice rose in volume, and Puck was sure if Kurt kept going, only dogs would be able to hear his bitching. He tried to calm the other boy down.

"Noah," Kurt continued, "Would you care to explain?"

"Well, Kurt," Puck explained, "My Ma was really excited, you see, and I didn't have the heart to tell her that this whole thing was a mistake. She was so happy that I was married and wanted to meet you, so I _had _to say yes. You would have done the same if it was your dad."

"Well, Puck," Kurt scathingly mocked, "I wouldn't have been stupid enough to have my mother--or my friends, mind you--find out in the first place! Now that your mother knows--how in the freaking hell does she know how to use a computer, it takes my dad a _week _to send an email--oh god, my dad!" Kurt began his erratic pacing once more. "Now that your mother knows, Puck, the whole _town _is going to know. There is _no _way we're going to be able to handle this quietly anymore. I am _never _going to be able to show my face in Lima again!" He paused. "Not that I really want to go back to that hell-hole."

"Kurt, dude, just chill," Puck raised his hands palms-open towards Kurt.

"I am no _dude_," Kurt snapped, "and I will not just chill! I'll have you know--"

"Kurt!" Puck cut him off. "Seriously, just listen." Kurt opened his mouth again in protest but Puck held up a silencing hand.

"Don't think you can dismiss me with a hand gesture, you chauvinistic pig," Kurt continued to rant, and Puck had _had enough of this._

"KURT!" Puck grabbed Kurt by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Just _listen_, okay? All we have to do is pretend to be a lovey-dovey newlywed couple for one dinner," he held up one finger in emphasis, "that's all--one night with my mother--and then we're home free. Just one night," he begged. "That's _all_ I'm asking, for my poor mother's sake."

Puck was making it very, very hard for Kurt to say no, and when Puck made a pleading face of epic proportions, Kurt relented. He found himself sighing and nodding his head in reluctant acceptance.

"Okay, okay, fine." Kurt sighed. "But only one night. Then we're getting a divorce: no if's, and's or but's."

Puck grinned, and let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Kurt. You have _no _idea how much this'll help me out."

"You owe me big time, Noah Puckerman--actually," he muttered, "I take that back. You've done _plenty_ for the time being." He began to gather his belongings from the night before. "You can book the flights for tomorrow and get everything organised. I'm going back to my room to get some sleep. It's been a… rather eventful twenty-four hours."

"Yeah, sure thing."

Puck and Kurt walked over to the door, Kurt making sure they had an arm's-length distance between them. He still couldn't get over the tension this whole torrid affair had brought to their friendship. When they said their good nights, it was awkward, to say the least.

While Puck booked the flights, he had a good think about what his game plan would be. He agreed to dinner, not only to appease his mother, but to win Kurt over. Puck saw this as his only chance to convince Kurt that he could be a good spouse: what better way than a family dinner, where he could show the boy just how much of a family man he could (and would) be?


End file.
